


Shame We Had to Grow Up

by leifmotifff



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Gayngst, M/M, light daddy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3618018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifmotifff/pseuds/leifmotifff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Charlie kisses another boy—or rather, is kissed by another boy—is also the same day he knows his life is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shame We Had to Grow Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was borne out of a conversation richmondvalentines/charlieheskeths and I were having about Charlie's obvious attraction to Eggsy (come on, every interaction between them in the movie smacked of pigtail-pulling!), and takes place before Charlie enters university. Just a little backstory dedicated to all the Charlie fans out there. <3

The first time Charlie kisses another boy—or rather, is kissed by another boy—is also the same day he knows his life is over. 

He's had his odd moments before: there was the story with the son of the gardener of his family’s estate when he was younger, whom Charlie’s father had commented he was spending far too much time with—though he hadn’t been able to tell if that was because they were both boys or because of the difference in class. But given either possibility, Charlie _really_ doesn’t want to know what his father would say about where he is right now. 

They had originally been planning to go out to one of the luxe West End clubs they usually frequented, but a couple hours later while pre-gaming at one of their friends’ Kensington flats, someone suggested they check out one of the bars on the dodgier side of town. You know, for a laugh. Maybe pick up some easy girls there who’d jump at the chance to go home with a fine young upper class lad.

As it is, Charlie’s standing with his mates in the smoky club, and despite their earlier bravado, none of them are doing anything but raucously buying drink after drink and mocking the regulars amongst themselves. Charlie’s well on his way to sloshed and there’s a girl at the bar very obviously making eyes at him, and while she’s really not all that bad-looking, she is sporting a touch too much fake tan for Charlie to take any interest at all. 

He doesn’t even try to keep the slight scorn off his face and looks away, not wanting her to get any ideas, when he notices someone staring at him. Leaning against the far wall behind the bar is a tall bloke, wearing a snapback hat and a chain just barely visible under the front of his Adidas jacket, and as soon as Charlie makes eye contact the guy actually _winks_ at him before tossing him a quick cheeky grin. 

Almost scandalized, Charlie quickly averts his eyes to see if his mates have noticed, but thank god they haven’t, proper pissed at this point. He ventures another glance at the youth, who just inclines his head towards the exit to one of the smoking areas before striding out, not even waiting to see if Charlie will follow. Which normally, Charlie would have scoffed at, but right now his body is buzzing from the booze and he’s feeling cavalier, so after a few moments he mutters something about the bathroom to his friends before discreetly making his way outside.

There’s no one besides them in the alleyway, this being the smoke area further from the bar, and it not being late enough in the night that patrons are boisterously gathered outside to escape the heat from the bodies inside. Charlie approaches cautiously as the other lifts an almost-finished cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling a thin stream of smoke and indicating it to him, offering him one with a quirk of his eyebrows. 

Charlie shakes his head no, and just chews on his bottom lip nervously as the guy finishes his own, giving Charlie the once-over with something like an appreciative smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. The other boy is slightly taller than him and has high cheekbones, with light freckles dusting almost imperceptibly across the bridge of his nose, and it’s a good thing Charlie’s drunk so he doesn’t focus on how strange it is that he’s standing outside, staring in silence at a complete stranger, while his friends are inside having a good time. 

But it’s not long enough to be weird, not long at all, really, before the guy flicks away the stub of his cigarette and steps right up into Charlie’s personal space. And all at once, Charlie’s heart is all over his ribcage, and his skin and gut are alight with nerves, and somehow he’s still surprised when the guy leans in and kisses him. 

Suddenly Charlie doesn’t feel very drunk anymore. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, considering he’s the one who _followed another bloke outside_ , but still Charlie’s eyes fall shut as the guy’s lips press firmly against his, but he’s far too nervous for this and also, he’s _straight_. He thinks. At least, he’s been dating some rich girl from his riding club on and off for the past few years and Jesus Christ, he just remembered George’s driver is circling the damn club, and what if his father finds out? 

But then he feels the guy’s tongue flick against his closed lips and all those thoughts momentarily fly out the window. It's all he can do not to let out a pathetic-sounding whimper, but the other boy’s mouth is so assured and insistent and _hot_ against his own and Charlie cannot think at all. 

The taller boy’s hand is tight in his hair as he backs him almost roughly up against the brick exterior of the club, the slightly calloused fingers of his other hand slipping under the cashmere-blend sweater Charlie's wearing under his jacket, just grazing his stomach before gripping his hip as he brings their bodies flush together and fuck- fuck- suddenly there’s a thigh pressing between his legs, and a slight but purposeful slide against his crotch makes Charlie break the kiss in a choked gasp.

But his counterpart is undeterred. He just moves his attention to Charlie’s jaw, mouthing softly against his neck, before lifting his head slightly to breathe huskily into his ear.

"What’s your name?" 

And Charlie tries to answer, truly he does, but the guy’s hand has moved away from Charlie’s hip to palm his rapidly growing erection through his jeans, and those lips are on his neck again, and Charlie can’t help but throw his head back against the brick, either in heavenly supplication or to give the guy better access to his throat, he's not sure. He can feel his hips starting to jut forward lewdly and he’s practically _panting_ , oh my god, and—and what if his friends come outside to look for him?

"Ch- Charlie, I’m Charlie," he manages, and the guy hums against his neck before capturing his mouth again in a bruising kiss, and it's hot and forceful and demanding and nothing at all like kissing Emily. 

The guy finally pulls away with a slick, embarrassing wet sound, but his lips are glistening distractingly and his eyes are dark and unfocused and Charlie is positively disarmed by the heat in them.

"Well, Charlie," he starts, and Charlie really should not enjoy the way his name sounds in that south London accent as much as he does. "You know what I first thought when I saw you sucking down that drink?" 

Despite everything, Charlie’s face heats at the word choice, and he can feel color rising in his cheeks. At which the guy just grins, before leaning in and touching his lips softly to Charlie's, whispering lowly against them, “How I had to have that pretty little mouth." 

And with that he gives Charlie's cock a firm squeeze through his jeans, and Charlie makes a sound like a choke and a groan at the same time and _Christ_ , he has to get out of here. 

But his back is already arching, hips lifting into the touch as he sucks in lungfuls of the cold London air, and the next thing he knows those deft hands are going for his fly as the taller boy catches his eye, and the curve of his little smirk is so charming and so dangerous and Charlie can't, he _can't_ —

It takes everything in him to push the other away. "I'm sorry- I just- I have to go-" he says breathlessly, and the guy frowns in confusion and Charlie really cannot handle the look of genuine regret that passes across those handsome features. 

He ducks his head as he edges out from between him and the wall. "I'm sorry," he mumbles again, and briskly makes his way out of the alley and onto the main road, mind racing and lips tingling, hastily adjusting his jacket to try to hide the bulge at the front of his pants. 

"It's Max, by the way," he hears the guy call after him, and Charlie squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head to try to clear it, reaches for his phone to text his friends to tell them he's already too hammered and needs to be up early tomorrow. As if this wasn't the most lucid he has ever left any club—as if the thought of those calloused fingers around his bare cock and the heat in those eyes wasn't going to keep him up all night anyway. 

He comes all over himself in his bed an hour later, legs spread obscenely and lips parted in a silent cry as he pictures the guy bringing him off right there outside the club, fast and deliberate, pinning him against the wall with nothing but strong arms and that hot, wanting gaze.

Charlie takes a stuttering breath as the last aftershocks of his orgasm roll through him. Hazily, he brings a shaking hand up to inspect the sticky white substance coating his fingers in the dim moonlight filtering into his bedroom. He hesitates, then brings his fingers to his mouth- gives them an experimental lick, and imagines the sound Max would make, one hand fisted in his hair and coming hard down Charlie’s throat. 

Charlie’s eyes actually widen and he flushes again, shocked even at his own imaginings, but just as immediately he sees his father in mind’s eye, feels white hot shame prickling like needles across his cheeks and ears and the back of his neck.

He just barely chokes down something like a sob, wiping his hand messily on the sheets. 

He is so, so fucked.

_-fin-_

  



End file.
